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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532474">It Happened Quiet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulu_lisbon/pseuds/lulu_lisbon'>lulu_lisbon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BAMF Castiel, F/M, Gay Love Saves The Day, Happy Ending, M/M, Time Travel Fix-It</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:55:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532474</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulu_lisbon/pseuds/lulu_lisbon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel doesn’t know how or why, but the year was 2019 and now it’s 2005 and he can’t not stupidly save those he loves before they suffer through the upcoming chaos. Updates weekly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>AKA, a How To Save the World guide by Castiel, the Angel of Thursdays. Set after 15x15.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>221</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It Happened Quiet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Castiel’s farewell to Dean might have been anticlimactic, he knows, but at least he feels the darkness engulf him comfortably and carelessly, finally easing him into familiarity. The Great Nothingness had been unpleasant the last time, but by now he knows better. Quiet and peaceful emptiness sounds perfect, after having fought battle after battle tirelessly for however many years. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At first, he floats. His physical form is freed from its human constraints and he flaps his wings. They feel unburdened and light in this empty space. The black engulfs them, then the rest of his body. He closes his eyes and sleeps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And wakes up with a soaring migraine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first thing to come to mind is Dean. Of fucking course. Dean would somehow manage to raise him from the dead </span>
  <em>
    <span>again </span>
  </em>
  <span>because the damn Winchesters are allergic to rest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel groans and shifts out of… bed? The new feeling of soft cotton sheets and an astounding lack of bloody wounds shocks him up to his feet. He wobbles back against a wall, gradually digesting his surroundings. Soft blue walls. A bed. A sleeping woman in the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is a bedroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An alarm on a bed stand suddenly starts up with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>BEEP BEEP BEEP</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Castiel panics. The woman’s head shifts on her pillow, so he immediately rushes over to the alarm and unplugs it from the wall. The beeping noises stop and the woman stops moving. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the bed stand, next to the now dead alarm clock, is a calendar. Days are crossed out in red ink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It reads, </span>
  <em>
    <span>7:15 AM. November 2nd 2005. Thursday.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rubs his eyes - in this human form - and reads it again. Perhaps being stuck in a human body once again has diminished his otherworldly sense of vision… and nope. It still reads the same date. November 2nd of the year 2005. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alright, he thinks. This is perfectly normal. Time travel. Of course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Admittedly, he does feel much stronger than he remembers. His angel powers have not been diminished, stolen, spoiled, or ruined. There are no scars on his corporeal form. Energy flows freely through his soul. The body of Jimmy Novak even feels younger, more youthful and strong. There are very few individuals capable of throwing Castiel backwards in time to this extent, resetting his body to heal entirely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God? Probably not. Amara… even less so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That left the other divine beings. Michael didn’t like anyone enough to be willing to sacrifice such enormous power. Raphael was extremely dead. Lucifer might be interested in causing such cosmic chaos like sending a random angel back in time, but Castiel crossed that ex-archangel out of mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...Gabriel? Did God bring his brave older brother back again? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, no. Gabriel surely had to have died after that last time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But what he does know is how freeing it feels to not be bound by the shackles of pain and servitude. He is not plagued by the relentless wishing of a God who hardly cares for his children. He is not plagued by countless yet pointless battles in the Heavens, down here on Earth. The angels may be curious of his sudden absence from Heaven in 2005, but no one will come searching. He is truly, for the first time, free of bounds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel barks out a laugh, then heads out the bedroom door. If he’s well and truly taken back in time, he can put an end to the future of endless suffering. In the dimension where he keeps his true form suspended, he stretches his great, strong wings and finds bliss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God blessed Castiel to become a Seraph after dying by Lucifer’s hands. His powers diminished over the years as his connection to Heaven grew uncertain and his body weakened from the continuous stress of fighting off everything except for his small group of humans. At the time of his last death, Castiel was nothing but a regular angel with strength barely above a cherub’s. Now he is at full strength and unburdened from apocalyptic war.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He quickly dresses into his favored set of clothes - a classic business attire with a blue tie he’s grown fond of over the years. Humans and angels appear to find comfort in familiarity, with the Winchester brothers’ obsession with flannel and Castiel’s own obsession with Jimmy’s everyday work clothes. Jimmy’s body is even more fit and flexible at this age than the age he previously took his body - and that’s an unpleasant thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pushes it out of mind when he heads downstairs to fetch his trenchcoat by the door and - . </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Daddy!” Someone shrieks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A very tiny and loud human crashes into his legs. Castiel, the angel of Thursdays, the most powerful Seraph of the realm, and a warrior of a millennia of demonic and treacherous wars, absolutely does not </span>
  <em>
    <span>squawk </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the sudden fear grappling up his spine from the appearance of a six year old girl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning Claire,” he responds on autopilot, petting her wild blonde curls. She giggles and does something with her eyes that makes his heart positively jump out of place, scrunching her nose and smiling with two missing front teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He puts the trench coat back on the coat rack. He doesn’t know why his hands shake when the little girl, Jimmy’s beloved daughter, yanks on his shirt sleeve to guide him towards the kitchen. There’s an obnoxiously bright pink backpack laying by the dining table, which is covered with crayons, pencils, and sheets of construction paper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no,” he breathes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Claire babbles something he tries his best to listen to, he really does, but his body runs on pure muscle memory while his mind races for answers. He ushers the little girl to her seat, brings milk, cereal, a bowl, and a spoon to the table, then makes her a simple breakfast. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is fine. Humans need food for fuel. Little humans especially require food energy to help them grow into bigger. He thinks about Dean’s diet, then Kevin’s, then the other humans in his life who he can emulate. He’s never actually seen Charlie sit down for a proper meal. Thinking about Jack makes his heart hurt unexpectedly, so he stores that thought away for later. Bobby? Of course not, that old hunter’s health is as poor as they come. Sam it is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With Sam’s disappointment towards anything unhealthy in mind, Castiel grabs apple slices from the refrigerator and sets them in front of Claire. She eats them and babbles about her new crayons. Castiel offers his practiced smiles and nods at the appropriate times.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...and becauthe today’th my bff’th birthday and and I can’t wait to go to thcool and give - !”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lamp next to the dining table shatters. Castiel winces.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Claire pauses her rambling when a pair of footsteps patter down the stairs. A face he barely recognizes peers down at the kitchen. “Good morning Claire, good morning honey what was - OH MY GOD is the lamp broken?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning Amelia,” he says because that’s what humans do in the morning. “Yes. It must have unexpectedly overheated.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s an important day for Claire. He has no obligation towards Jimmy’s family, but he can’t just leave this happy family like this. He remembers Amelia’s broken body. He remembers an angry teenage girl screaming at the world for the death of both beloved parents. A bubble of pain traps itself in his throat just as he plans to fly away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t. He can’t do that to them, these precious souls. They don’t deserve to suffer through the pain again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the world needs him. He has all the information he needs at the brim of his feathers, waiting to vanquish demons and rotten angels once and for all. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean </span>
  </em>
  <span>needs him. It’s not his Dean, the man who fought, cried, and bled with him. But it’s still a Dean. A Dean who doesn’t need to go through an apocalypse again. A Dean who doesn’t need to have his loved ones leave him. A Dean who hasn’t been to Hell and back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is a twenty six year old Dean out in the world right now and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel is still at the stupid Novak household. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I’m sorry, I must go aid two monster hunters save the world.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up. You go help Claire prepare for school,” he says instead. He loosens his tie out of habit, then peppers a kiss on Claire’s forehead and Amelia’s cheek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jimmy’s wife easily agrees and takes the little girl away to get dressed. Once the two are out of sight, he grabs the shards of glass with his bare hands and dumps it in the trash. He sustains several cuts on his fingers, but they are healed by the time Claire bounds straight into his legs again, now wearing pigtails and a green dress with sunflower designs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t know how, but he finds himself at the entrance of an elementary school ten minutes later, waving goodbye to a daughter that isn’t his, holding hands with a wife that isn’t his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is bad, he thinks. He doesn’t need any more attachments. Suffering through the Winchesters is enough. The image of innocents burning from the inside out is seared into his eyes. He did that. He killed what Sam and Dean did their best to protect. And Jack…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mere, honey,” Amelia tugs Castiel back to the car. “I’ll drive you to work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shifting through Jimmy’s memories, Castiel discovers that yes, Jimmy has a stable 9 to 5 career as a tax accountant at a medium sized firm. Jimmy’s wife works as an occupational therapist, but not on Thursdays and Fridays.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He builds off on conversation with Amelia. Talking with her relaxes him a bit, reminding him that staying with the Novaks for the time being is actually a good thing. These innocent people shouldn’t have to suffer from cosmic forces unknown. He’ll stay with Claire and Ameila, carefully explain to them that Castiel isn’t Jimmy, and hope they won’t scream at him. Then he can stick to the Winchesters’ sides and protect them from the horrors of demons and the upcoming wars. Maybe once a month he’ll check back on the Novaks and make sure they’re doing okay without Jimmy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a perfect plan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Work is strange. He relies on Jimmy’s memories to help organize spreadsheets and strange numbers he doesn’t fully understand. But nobody is telling him he’s doing something wrong, so he continues the boring repetition of the day. It’s not as boring as spending an eternity as a prison guard in Heaven, so he’s not complaining. Besides, continuing as a normal human with a normal job is essential to keep the Novaks happy until he reveals his identity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At five o’clock sharp, he breaks away from the cubicle. Not talking to anyone for a full eight hours is actually quite nice. The entire time his fingers were typing out random numbers while checking on his physical health. His wings are healthy, but he needs to comb through the extra feathers. His powers are strong, but he needs to work on controlling himself so he doesn’t accidentally implode anymore lamps. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the way out the door, he hears two coworkers behind him talking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My little cousin took the LSAT a few weeks ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really? How did lil Jeanette find it? Y’know, my sister’s a lawyer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh I didn’t know that! What field?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For some reason, Castiel eavesdrops on the conversation. He hears the word “LSAT” and “lawyer” and alarm bells ring in his head. Didn’t Sam want to be a lawyer at one point? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not one to ignore gut instincts, Castiel decides to take the short way home. He ducks behind a car in the parking lot and flies directly to the Novak front door instead of taking the short walk. He senses Amelia and Claire safely playing in the backyard. He senses a few other lifeforms - Claire’s friends from the elementary school? - and checks the time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can do a little investigating in fifteen minutes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel admires how fast he flies now. In an instant, he very nearly teleports straight to a library in Miami he grew fond of in his previous travels around the world, and researches the term “LSAT.” The slow internet of the early 2000s provides the definition, a test for determining law students. Dean told him at one point he started hunting with Sam again a few days before an interview for a lawyer thing. Is this it? The year checks out. The law school thing checks out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They didn’t talk much about this period of their life. Castiel never prodded, but he knows the years Sam left to university are sensitive for both brothers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alright, he thinks. He’ll visit Sam first since he knows where that brother is. He isn’t familiar enough with 2005 Sam and Dean to pinpoint their exact locations by sense alone. That will take searching through every square mile of the US and possibly the southern regions of Canada or northern reaches of Mexico to find today’s Dean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His plans don’t factor in that kind of time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Flying back to that average town in Michigan is instantaneous. The Novak family prays before dinner everyday, but Castiel can’t find himself wanting to pray to a God who never listens. He sneaks a peak at Amelia and Claire, heads bowed and hands clasped in peace. He envies their ease before berating himself for such ineptitude. They are young and unknowing of the supernatural. They should remain innocent and pure like this; they should pray to whoever they wish as it brings them happiness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel prays to an unborn Jack. No one will hear the prayers, but it feels better than talking to any of the other asshole angels.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The daily schedule isn’t so bad. Claire is happy, Amelia is kind and doesn’t appear to notice that her husband is all but gone, and the day ends with going to bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But angels don’t sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or, well, Seraphs don’t sleep. A lowly ranked, low power angel might require a few hours of deep meditation every few days to recharge on grace energy, especially after a battle. A fallen angel on the cusp of turning into an angel - a point he reached too many times - definitely requires human needs such as sleep, food, and tending to other wholly unnecessary human body functions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After exactly three hours and two minutes of laying still while contemplating how exactly he will circumvent the apocalypse and stop future horrible events from occurring, he flies out of bed and into the master bedroom’s closet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fully dressed, he envisions Stanford University in mind, just a flap of the wings away, before remembering humans don’t like being surprised by the unknown. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Useless inanities,” he grumbles. On the way to tuck his wallet in his pocket, he draws a quick Enochian blessing over Claire’s bedroom door for safe dreams and protection from evildoers. It won’t stop Lucifer, but definitely a few vampires or ghouls would check twice before trying to do anything nasty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’ll smite them before anything happens. Of course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel arrives on the top of a building in the Stanford campus. The air here is dry and achinging hot despite the late season and the darkness of the night. He checks further into a residential block near the lecture halls and stops in his path.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because the apartment building right in front of him absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>reeks </span>
  </em>
  <span>of demon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He flies straight into the bottom floor, where the majority of the demonic activity is occurring. In less than a second, he digests the situation: a young adult woman slowly being drawn up a bedroom wall with large cuts blooming across her midsection by a powerful demon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s never directly met Azazel, but he’s heard stories.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Upon his arrival, Azazel drops his hold on the woman, and she drops a few feet to the floor, whimpering and clutching her wounds. Castiel is at her side immediately, taking advantage of the demon’s surprise. He channels healing energy through her body, watching the intestines slither back to their rightful position and the cuts stitch themselves back up. While faint, her hand clutches Castiel’s trench coat tighter than expected and she tries to say something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he ignores it in favor of standing up and glaring right into Azazel’s yellow eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The demon holds his ground, but throws his hands up mockingly to hide any nervousness. “Castiel, oh angel of Thursdays! Whatever brings an angel here into the lowly mortal realm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Azazel,” he grunts out. “I will take pleasure in ending you before you cause anymore trouble for the humans.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Azazel takes a step backwards and offers a confident smirk at the duo. “I can’t imagine that I’ve stirred up enough trouble for Heaven to come knocking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel knows the demon is just biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to make a quick getaway. They both know who’s the strongest in the room now. “Heaven doesn’t care about that,” he says. “But I do. You murdered Mary Winchester twenty-two years ago. It brought great pain to many.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman behind him gasps. Maybe she’s still traumatized from nearly spilling her internal organs everywhere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel grabs the woman with his power and throws her straight out of the bedroom. With a snap of his fingers, the door locks itself. Azazel takes that moment to escape, channeling the disgusting black smoke out of the body’s host - but Castiel is faster. He engages his angelic prowess and brings forth his grace into the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The angels had been planning on Azazel to somehow drag Dean Winchester into Hell for the first seal to be broken. But he knows, as he had headed the battalion forces, that they paid little attention to the actual demon ongoings. Now that Azazel is all but a smoking husk of a corpse in a poor woman’s bedroom, another demon will eventually pop up by decree of fate and force one of the brothers down to the fiery pits of the underworld. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that’s a matter for another time. All he focuses on is that he has successfully taken down one of the prominent players of the apocalypse. The rest will follow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He senses the woman coming closer to the door - by God’s crusty beard, she has the survival instincts of a Winchester. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He allows her reprieve by physically walking to the door, letting his footsteps clack all over the hardwood floors. When he opens the door, the woman in the kitchen is pulling on a thick cardigan and fumbling with the house keys. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry about that,” he says. The woman looks skittish, but less so now that there’s no strange invisible forces cutting into her body. “Are you alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s blonde and pretty and young. She reminds Castiel of an older Claire and his heart aches.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep!” She chirps loudly. “Just peachy. Someone broke into my apartment and did voodoo magic on me and nearly split me in half and then a new stranger </span>
  <em>
    <span>also </span>
  </em>
  <span>broke in and healed my gaping wounds with a head pat and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh my god did that guy murder Sam’s mom why did he try to kill me I’mjustaprogrammingstudentwhydidthatjust - !</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Flying is a no go. “Humans get freaked out by weird magical teleportation, Cas,” Dean had said at one point. So Castiel slowly walks into the kitchen area, telegraphing all his movements. Instead of comforting the woman because holy shit he doesn’t know how to do that, he reaches into the cupboards and finds two mugs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He makes tea. Some sort of herbal blend that he isn’t going to drink anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman calms enough to take a seat at the kitchen table. She takes a long sip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know Sam Winchester?” He asks, because he distinctly recalls that name being choked out during her breakdown. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nods mutely and sips more tea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s good he’s found one of Sam’s classmates or friends. After she calms down and Castiel stores Azazel’s puppet corpse someplace safe, he can find out information about Sam’s whereabouts and make sure to ward the place up to the nose. And find out why Azazel wanted to murder some random girl in California.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because she doesn’t look to be volunteering information about her classmate / friend / someone Sam likes enough to share his mother’s name with, Castiel starts. “My name is Castiel. My job is to protect humans.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stupid humans, like Dean. And Dean’s less stupid brother. And possibly others. Kevin will be getting a visit soon. It’ll take some searching, but he’s confident he can also locate Charlie too and assure himself she’s not going to die </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman sets down her mug with two wobbling hands. “I’m Jessica and I’m… confused.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel can agree with that. “I’m very sorry you had to suffer through that, Jessica. It must be confusing to see supernatural forces for the first time in such a gruesome manner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She huffs. The tea is starting to bring back color on her cheeks. “I guess that answers that question, huh,” she quips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He agrees gently, then says, “The person trying to kill you was a demon named Azazel. Twenty-two years ago, he murdered Mary Winchester in her home in the same way he tried with you. Azazel,” - and every other demon in existence - “as you can see, is connected to the Winchester family. What I am curious about is how </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>factor into this, Jessica. How are you connected to Sam?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jessica stares up straight into Castiel’s eyes with resounding bravery. “Sam is my boyfriend, and you will not hurt him,” she says even as her voice wobbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel likes this woman. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will never hurt him,” he promises, matching her steel gaze. “My job is to protect humans.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a minute of silence, she sighs and looks back into her empty mug. “This is going to be so hard to explain to Sam,” she grumbles in an attempt at humor. Castiel sees why Sam likes Jessica. Already, the mood shifts into a lighter one from her words breaking the tension. There’s a burnt out corpse in the room next to this one and she’s already fully digesting a new worldview with a hint of laughter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slides his still steaming mug of tea towards her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not really. John Winchester has been hunting Azazel ever since it murdered his wife. As you can imagine, Sam and Dean grew up in a ‘monster-hunting’ environment. I would describe the brothers as child soldiers growing up, if I had to pick a term.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She spits out a mouthful of tea onto the table. Luckily, none of the spewed droplets touch him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? No, that doesn’t - .”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Click. Click.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The front door opens. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel turns his head to see a bright and painfully </span>
  <em>
    <span>young </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sam at the entrance. He extends his senses and knows Dean to be just a few feet away by the curbside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a split second, Sam has a gun out aimed straight at Castiel. “Don’t move!” He bellows. “Jess, get away!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She slips out of her seat, revealing the reason behind the angered college student. Her front is absolutely drenched with fresh blood, dripping down over her thighs and staining her hands from when she had frantically tried to staunch the wounds by herself. Castiel feels very dumb for not making her change into a new shirt before setting her down for a cup of relaxation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam steps closer and unlocks the safety. Unbeknownst to both of them, his girlfriend moves in front of Castiel, crossing her arms resolutely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The commotion must’ve alerted Dean, because another man comes tumbling through the entryway with a knife in each hand. He’s beautiful. Castiel is enraptured. Dean is also so painfully young, bright, and clean. Stress does not wrinkle his brow, hard lines have yet to form, and he can feel the bundle of energy emitting from the man. He is here, healthy and gorgeous. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This man right here saved me from a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>demon</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” The newly dubbed ‘Jess’ declares. “But there’s a gross ass corpse in our bedroom and I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>this close </span>
  </em>
  <span>to losing it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her outburst eases the weapons. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Castiel makes no movement, Sam lowers the gun. Dean heads straight into the open bedroom and comes out immediately with a hand sign he knows as ‘all clear.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman runs to Sam’s side, where he finally tucks the gun away and risks embracing his girlfriend. Castiel averts his eyes and instead stares at Dean, seemingly stuck at the bedroom doorway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Demons,” she laughs. “Fucking demons.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next few minutes are eerily reminiscent of the first time Bobby and Dean summoned an angel. They pour holy water over his head, murmur ancient chants, test a variety of metals on him, and finish it off with ‘christo.’ Thankfully, no one stabs him in the chest this time around. He’s grown fond of his clothes and it would be a hassle to buy a new item.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hair is sopping wet and there might be salt in his eyes but it’s all okay because </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean </span>
  </em>
  <span>pulls the seat in front of him and stares at him with his glorious bright green eyes. There are flecks of gold, amber, blue, and grey in the irises to highlight his adonis features - he’s met Adonis; that man can’t hold a candle to the beauty that is Dean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel might be biased.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re gonna go help me carry that corpse out, Trench Coat. After that, let’s have a little chat.”</span>
</p>
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